There is Nothing Better Than Revenge
by Tippens
Summary: Dean has been flaunting his relationship with Castiel, and he needs to be taught a lesson. High School!AU, Dean/Castiel, Crossdressing
1. Chapter 1

The soccer ball flew through the air, hundreds of pairs of eyes watching it as it sailed in the direction of the net. Victor Henrikson jumped and tried to stop the black and white object, but his hands missed it by inches. It hit the net, and cheers filled the area, the loudest one being from Dean Winchester.

"That was my boyfriend," he called out, standing on his seat and looking at the other people seated on the bleachers. "My boyfriend did that."

"Sit down, boy," Bobby Singer said to him, tugging on the teenager's letterman jacket, which actually belonged to aforementioned boyfriend. "You'll embarrass him."

Dean rolled his eyes and sat back down. "Your son doesn't get embarrassed by me," he said, "Cas knows I'm his personal cheerleader, and he loves it."

"You already have the skirt for it," Dean's brother Sam muttered from his place next to him, earning him a glare from the older boy.

Their cousin, Jo, seated on Sam's right, giggled and said, "We should get him matching pom poms."

"Stay out of my stuff," Dean hissed at them, as the referee blew the whistle.

"I don't need to know what you two do," Bobby murmured.

"I know," Bobby's youngest child, Ash, said from his seat to the left of him, "I've heard them."

"No, you haven't," Bobby said. "Twelve year olds don't hear those things."

"But-"

"Quiet time," he said, and shot Dean an angry look. The boy smiled sheepishly and turned his attention back to the game.

Castiel was dribbling the ball down the field, maneuvering his way gracefully around the opposing players. He passed it over to Balthazar Freely, who kicked it into the net, and more cheers erupted from the Elliot Ness High School side of bleachers.

Again, Dean stood up, and yelled, "Assist! My boyfriend did that assist!"

"Shut the fuck up!" someone from behind him screamed.

Dean turned around and scanned the top bleachers, looking for the source of the noise. His eyes fell on Meg Rachels, a dark haired senior who was in Castiel's gym class. Dean did not like her. When she noticed Dean looking at her, she flipped him off.

Dean smirked in response and mouthed, _He's mine, bitch_. He turned back around and sat down, attention back on the game. He clapped his hands and yelled, "Cas, Cas, Cas!"

Bobby flicked his ear.

* * *

Dean sighed when he saw his broken lock on the floor. He dropped his backpack next to him and kicked the lock down the hallway. He pulled open his locker, not reacting when he saw "Fat Faggot" written in black marker on the inside of the door. Somebody was always breaking into his locker and writing stuff inside it, putting bugs in his lunch, or ripping pages out of his books. It had happened so many times that he was no longer surprised.

"Of _course_ this happened on a Monday," he muttered to himself, as he cleaned the door with the little spray bottle of water and the washcloth he kept in his locker. "The one good day of the week."

It was hard for Dean and Castiel to spend time together: Castiel had soccer on Sundays and Tuesdays, hockey on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and swimming on Fridays and Saturdays. Dean had Video Game Club on Wednesdays, Myths and Legends Club on Thursdays, and Friday was Dungeons & Dragons night.

They had decided in the beginning of the year that they would go on a date every Monday, and Dean looked forward to it every week. Sometimes they would go see a movie and fuck in the bathroom, eat in Dean's treehouse and fuck on a pile of blankets and pillows, or drive to the park and fuck against a tree.

Dean grinned when he remembered what he had planned for them that night: pizza, pie, and a horror movie.

As soon as Dean finished cleaning, arms circled around his waist. He felt a warm feeling in his chest, and tossed the bottle and cloth into the locker.

"You smell nice, today," said the person hugging him, and it was clearly not Castiel.

Dean pulled the arms off of him and turned around. He knew just by the voice it was Alastair Corture, a creepy senior who was constantly hitting on Dean. He had tried getting the eighteen year old expelled, but he never had any proof of harassment.

Alastair was giving the younger teen a smile that was probably supposed to be charming, but it just made Dean uncomfortable.

"What did I say about touching me?" Dean snapped, backing into the lockers.

"Aww, c'mon sweetheart," Alastair said, taking a few step towards him, "don't pretend you don't love it."

"Why can't you get it through your thick skull that I have a boyfriend?" Dean said, trying to sound confident and crossing his arms.

"What he doesn't know," Alastair lifted his hand and gripped Dean's chin hard, "won't hurt him."

A hand wrapped around the senior's wrist. "Off," said a deep voice, "or I kick you so hard you won't ever have children." Alastair rolled his eyes but did as commanded, shaking off Castiel's hand. He gave Dean a wink before walking away.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked as he wrapped his arms around Dean.

"Now I am," Dean responded, giving the older boy a kiss on the cheek, "with my knight in shining armor."

Castiel smiled at him and said, "I'm sorry about yesterday." After the game Castiel had immediately gone home to study for a calculus test.

"It's fine," Dean responded, turning around in Castiel's arms to face his locker. He started moving his books around, looking for his english notebook. "'The Hills Have Eyes 2' arrived yesterday, so we can watch it and have some pizza. My mom bought apple pie for us, too," Castiel let go of Dean, but the the junior didn't acknowledge it. "Oh, and after school today, Sam and Jo want to go the park, you should bring your baseball glove. Ash can come if he wants."

"I, uh, can't," Castiel said nervously, "I am going somewhere after school." Dean turned around and stared at Castiel, an angry expression on his face. "I'll be back during fourth period tomorrow."

"Are you fucking serious?" Dean said, "Why didn't you tell me before? Where are you going that so damn important anyway?"

"Calm down, Dean," Castiel replied, putting his hand on the younger boy's shoulder. Dean shook him off and looked away. "My parents want to take Ash and I skeet shooting." Dean let out a scoff and looked back at Castiel, eyes narrowed. "I can ask if they'll let you come."

"I-," Dean started to say, but he stopped when he noticed Daphne Allen and Meg standing in front of their lockers on the other side of hallway, watching them. Meg had her arms crossed and was smirking, and Daphne was clutching the cross she always carried with her. Dean pulled Castiel towards him and kissed him, looking at Daphne and Meg as he did so. When he pulled away, he gave the two of them a condescending grin.

"Just go be with your family," Dean said, looking back at his boyfriend. "I'll be fine by myself."

Castiel smiled. "We can hang out after my practice tomorrow, okay?" Dean nodded in response and smiled. Castiel kissed his nose and said, "I have to go to my locker, I'll be back in a few minutes ."

Dean watched him walk away, eyes focused on the senior's ass.

"You're both going to hell," Dean heard Daphne say. He turned to her and rolled his eyes. She had said that to him almost every day since him and Castiel got together.

"Don't you have to go pray or something?" He really wanted to say something insulting to her, but Castiel had asked him to be civil with her. Daphne went to Castiel's church, and he thought if they were nice to her, she would stop the whole homophobia nonsense.

"Yes," she responded, slamming her locker closed and snapping the lock on. "I'll pray that Castiel will come to his senses, and be with who he belongs with." She shook her head at Dean and walked off.

Meg started chuckling, an irritating noise that made Dean's blood boil. He turned to her, anger obvious in his eyes. "What's so funny?"

"You are, fairy," she responded, pointing at him. "You are quite amusing."

"And why is that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You are so upset about Cas being gone for a few hours, you're gonna lose it when he dumps you for me," she pulled a flask out of her locker and opened it. "You're probably gonna bawl your faggy little eyes out."

"Okay," Dean said calmly, "I know your tiny mind will find this task difficult, but I think it is important you do this; go get a dictionary and look up the word 'gay'."

She rolled her eyes and said, "That's just a phase."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Even if he liked girls, he wouldn't like you."

"No, he would and he does," she said, and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she spat out the liquid. Dean started laughing. "This isn't my whiskey."

"Nope," Dean said, smiling, "it's iced tea and cinnamon. I know you're the one who keeps breaking into my locker. Also, leave my Cas alone."

She strutted over to him, nostrils flaring, and pulled her fist back. Dean backed up and shut his eyes, anticipating pain. He was surprised when he felt a warm substance on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw that Meg had dumped the contents of her flask onto him, and it was running down his shirt.

"If I hit you, I'll probably get expelled."

"What is wrong with you?" Meg and Dean turned and saw Castiel standing a foot away, fists clenched and a pissed off expression on his face.

"Oh, hey Cas," Meg said, hiding her flask behind her, "I was just-"

"Shush," Castiel interrupted, "Do not speak with Dean again, you greasy haired nuisance. Come, Dean," he held out his hand, "I believe Benny is your size."

Dean shut his locker, picked up his bag, and took the senior's hand. As Castiel led him away, he looked back at Meg and stuck his to tongue out at her. She stared back at him, a furious look on her face.

* * *

As the first warning bell for homeroom rang, Meg took out her phone and sent out a mass text to three people.

_I think Dean Fagchester needs to be taught a lesson_, she texted.

All three responded, saying they were game for anything.

Meg smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

When the final bell for the day rang, Dean bolted out of the cafeteria and sprinted to the classroom at the end of hallway, the one closest to the auditorium. The second he got to the door, it opened and students started trickling out, and Dean noticed that a lot of them had small band-aids on their hands.

He waited until kids stopped coming out and went inside, then looked around. There were a few kids left in the Home Ec. room, helping Mrs. Tran by collecting the knitting needles and yarn.

"Hey, Dean," the teacher said to him. She was standing next to her desk, talking to Castiel. Dean smiled at her and walked over, bringing his arm around Castiel's waist and kissing his cheek.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said to him, obviously happy to see him.

"So you started with the knitting?" Dean asked as students brought h the tupperware containers of knitting supplies to Mrs. Tran's desk.

"Yep," she replied, nodding at the departing seniors as they waved to her. "Cas here is the best in the class, not like that's a surprise."

Castiel blushed and said, "Thank you. I can definitely attend Mr. Turner's class tomorrow fifth period?"

"Yeah, Rufus will be fine with it," she replied. Her phone rang then and she answered it, and Dean and Castiel waved at her as they left.

"What was that about Rufus's class?" Dean asked as they walked up the stairs.

"I have shop first period tomorrow," Castiel responded, "I will miss it, but I want to finish my project." So many seniors had signed up for woodshop that they had to separate it into two classes. Rufus Turner was one of the gym teachers, and it had been Mrs. Tran's idea to make him the other shop teacher.

"Oh," Dean said sadly. Usually Castiel spent fifth period out in the yard, playing hockey with a handball. Dean had been hoping they would have lunch together tomorrow, thinking Castiel would feel bad about leaving him.

"Sounds like fun," he said, trying to make it sound as sarcastic as possible.

* * *

Outside, Dean had his arms around Castiel's middle, squatting slightly and practically crushing the smaller teen. Students walked around them, some giving them disgusted looks, others looking at them as if they were the most precious thing in the universe.

"Dean, for the third time, let him go," Karen Singer called out from her car, honking the horn a few times. "C'mom, we have to pick up up his father."

"Dean," Castiel gasped out, "I really have to leave and you're starting to hurt me."

Reluctantly, Dean let go and stood up. "I'm gonna miss you," he said, pouting.

Castiel rolled his eyes and adjusted the bag hanging from his shoulder. He gave Dean a light kiss on the lips. "I'll be back tomorrow," he said, brushing his knuckles against the junior's cheek. He walked over the car, his mother opening the door for him. He got in and shut it. "I love you, Dean."

"Ew," Ash said from the backseat.

"Be quiet, Ashton," Karen said sharply, then more pleasantly, "Bye, Dean."

"Bye," Dean replied sadly. Castiel smiled at him, and then he was gone.

* * *

"Ash is so lucky," Sam said as he threw the baseball to his cousin. "He gets to miss gym and math."

Jo caught the ball, wincing slightly as it hit her glove. "My parents wouldn't let me miss school for something like that. So unfair." She threw it back at Sam, as hard as she could.

The twelve year old dropped to the ground, making a loud thud, and got a mouthful of grass. The ball flew through the air, whooshing past Dean, who was sitting against a tree looking at his phone. Sam stood up, spitting dirt and blades of grass out of his mouth, and turned around to face his brother.

"Oh, for fuck sake," he said, shaking his head. "Dean, the ball went right by you, what the hell are you doing?"

"Waiting for Cas to text me back," he said, not looking up.

Jo stomped her foot a few times. "Go get the ball," she whined, "it went over the fence thingy and into all the trees."

"Alright fine," Dean said, dropping his phone on his baseball glove. "Bratty little ten year old," he murmured as walked over to the fence. He hauled himself over it and started looking around, kicking twigs out of his way.

He spotted the ball near a tree a few yards away, and started taking a few steps toward it when he heard a "meowing" noise. He looked down and saw a brown cat standing next to his feet.

"Go away," he said to it, moving away. He sneezed and felt a headache starting. "Great," he muttered. He walked over to the ball and reached down to pick it up, and a black cat sprinted in front of him. It sat down and stared at him.

"What the fuck," Dean said under his breath, and started coughing uncontrollably. He sneezed again and quickly grabbed the ball. The teenager back away a few steps, but he tripped over something and fell to the ground. He looked and saw a small orange and yellow striped cat, that hissed at him and then sniffed his ankle.

"What the hell is going on?" he said out loud, as several other cats appeared out of nowhere, meowing and sniffing him.

* * *

Meg sighed and put the binoculars down. She looked at Daphne, who was sitting next her on the bench, with an annoyed expression.

"Cats," Meg muttered, "Cats." Alastair chuckled from where he stood behind the bench, flicking his lighter on and off.

"He's allergic," Daphne responded. "His eyes are watering, right?"

"How the fuck would I know that?" she answered, looking at the other girl and shaking her head. "How did you do that anyway?"

"I paid some lady at the animal shelter to give me the cats, and Rick," she made a disgusted face when she said his name, "helped me transport them, and he sprayed Dean's ankle with this liquid catnip stuff when they were both in the bathroom."

"It's Nick," said a voice a few feet away from them. They looked at the teenager, who was leaning against a tree, texting. "Nick Monroe."

"Like it matters," Daphne replied, venom in her voice, "they don't care about names where you're going."

"Why are you so obsessed with hell?" he asked, not looking up from his phone.

"I am not," she huffed. "I am stating a fact. Hypnotism is a product of devil."

"It's a hobby, bitch," Nick replied.

"Does that shit even work?" Alastair asked.

"Yep," Nick responded, "I used it on Dean and his brother last year Almost got them to fight each other, but soccerhead's dad came over for some reason. Snapped them right out of it."

"Wait, you were at his house?" Alastair said in disbelief.

"Yeah, I was gonna fuck him," he said nonchalantly, tapping away on his phone. "The fucking tease kicked me out when he figured out what I did."

"You're practically sprinting to hell," Daphne said.

Alastair stared at her for a few seconds, then said, "I think I may burn you."

* * *

Dean came to school the next morning, practically fuming with rage. He waited all day and night for Castiel to text him back, but nothing. He wanted to tell all about what had happened with the cats. He had been lucky he had had his inhaler with him.

Halfway through third period, his phone vibrated.

_Sorry, had no service_, Castiel had texted him, _Miss_ _you and see you soon xx_

Dean was happy, but a little concerned. He felt like Castiel was lying to him. He had a strange feeling that his boyfriend didn't care that much about him, the senior always out running, at a practice, doing homework, or doing some church thing.

He spent the rest of the day distracted, daydreaming about what it would be like if Castiel wasn't religious or wasn't involved with so many sports. The junior knew how happy he would be if all of Castiel's attention was focused on him.

He didn't see the senior all day, only receiving another text from him while he was getting his stuff at the end of the school day.

_Went to practice early_, it read. _You gonna come watch?_

Dean bit his lip and texted back a lie:_ I have lot of hm. com over later_

He did want to watch, but he knew exactly what would happen after; Castiel would apologize and tell Dean he had to study. The junior hated hearing that. It made him feel like he wasn't important.

He sighed and jammed books into his locker.

* * *

When Dean got home, he immediately went to his room and collected the blankets and pillows from his bed. He opened his window and tossed them into his treehouse, glad that the tree it was on was right outside his window.

His parents were both working late, his dad was a surgeon and his mom a medical doctor, and Sam was spending the night at their aunt and uncle's house. He liked it when him and Castiel were alone: it meant they could be as loud as they wanted.

After Dean changed, he sat on his floor, laptop open in front of him, working on a D & D campaign. Castiel came over at 6:30, opening the front door with his spare key. When he walked into Dean's room, the junior stood up, staring at him with a grin. Castiel's eyes widened and he stared back.

Dean was wearing a black T-shirt, a new blue skirt and light purple pantyhose, and Castiel knew without even looking that he was wearing his pair of pink silk panties.

The senior ran over and knocked Dean to the floor, latching his teeth onto the teen's neck. Dean groaned and gripped Castiel's ass. "I missed you," he gasped.

It didn't take long for clothes to be shed, though Dean kept the skirt on. His knees were touching his chest, his feet on Castiel's shoulders. The senior had his hands in Dean's sweaty hair the whole time.

Afterwards, Castiel and Dean went into the treehouse, taking the laptop and the Netflix movie with them. They piled up the pillows and blankets together making a kind of bed.

"Cas," Dean said thirty minutes into the movie, Castiel's arms wrapped around his middle as they sat on the pillows.

"Mm?" The senior was half-asleep.

"You love me, right?" he asked nervously.

"Course," the older boy yawned. "Would do anything for you."

Dean sighed, leaning back into Castiel's chest.

* * *

Inside the Winchester house, Daphne Allen slammed the door shut, earning a glare from the other seniors.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Meg hissed. "They might hear you."

Daphne rolled her eyes, as Alastair dropped his bag on the floor. He bent over and unzipped it, pulling everything out and putting the item in a oile

Nick picked up the hair dye and said, "We should probably work quickly, I have no idea how long they'll be in there."

The other three agreed with him and each picked up an item from the pile.


	3. Chapter 3

A loud crash jolted Dean out of his wonderful dream about pie and cheeseburgers. He sat up quickly, ready to jump out of bed, until he realized it was just his clumsy boyfriend knocking over his bike.

"Oops," Castiel said, not sounding like he actually cared. "Guess you're awake now."

"Your hair is wet," Dean declared.

The blue eyed teenager ran his fingers through his hair, droplets of water falling from the strands. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt. Dean was glad he made Castiel keep some clothes at his house.

"I did my run and had to shower." He walked over to the bed and sat down, and Dean hit him in the back with a pillow.

"Better not have used my shampoo," the junior said.

"No, Dean, I did not," Castiel replied. Dean raised an eyebrow and sniffed him. "It had your name on it, I know I didn't use it."

"Good." He let out a long yawn. "What time is it?"

"7:06 a.m."

Dean groaned. "Why do you have to be up so early?"

"Exercise, beautiful." Dean made a disgusted noise. "There is nothing gross about being healthy."

"The idea of all that running ain't sitting too well with me," he said, getting out of bed. "Shower time."

* * *

Dean was pulling on his blue dragon shirt when he walked into the kitchen, the scent of eggs frying strong in the air.

"Would you like some eggs, my love?" Castiel asked from his place at the stove.

"Nah," Dean responded, grabbing a spoon from the drainboard then reaching up to the cabinet above the sink for a bowl. "Cereal for me. My parents still sleeping?" He grabbed the Cheerios box from above the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Mmhmm. Your mother is a very loud snorer, I could hear her through the closed... What did you do to your hair?"

Dean turned around in his chair. "Nothing. What are you talking about?" Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning the camera option on and taking a picture of the teenager.

Dean took the phone from him and stared at the photo in shock. "It's pink," Castiel said.

"Yes, thank you," he snapped. "I can see that." The picture showed his hair a bright pink, not single one of his dirty blond strands showing. He handed the phone back to Castiel. "One of the brats must've put some dye shit in my shampoo. God dammit."

"How did you not notice that?" Castiel asked, putting the eggs on a plate and sitting next to Dean.

"Wasn't really paying attention." He tilted the box toward the bowl, and let out a shriek when a large grey rat fell out. He dropped the box, Cheerios spilling out onto the table, and stood up, knocking the chair over.

"Calm down, Dean." Castiel picked up the rat. "It's fake."

Dean had his hand over his chest and was breathing heavily. "I am... Going... To kill them," he gasped out.

The older boy squeezed the fake rodent, and it squeaked. "Interesting," he murmured.

"I'm skipping breakfast," Dean said. He grabbed a broom and pan from the closet in the hallway and cleaned up the cereal that fell on the floor. "I'm gonna go finish getting ready." He dropped both items on the floor, next to Castiel.

"I guess I'll finish cleaning for you."

"Love you," Dean responded.

* * *

In the upstairs bathroom, Dean squeezed toothpaste onto his brush. He started brushing his front teeth first. The second he started cleaning his tongue he gagged. He did not taste mint; he tasted mayonnaise.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered, dropping the half-empty tube into the trashcan.

Dean ran water over the brush, trying get all trace of the condiment out from between the bristles. When he was satisfied it was clean, he furiously started scrubbing his tongue, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. The teenager scraped his tongue against teeth, and let out a sigh when he could still taste the sauce.

He turned the faucet back on and, cupping his hands, brought the water to his mouth. He swished the liquid around inside, trying not to gag at faint hint lf mayonnaise he could still taste.

Spitting the water into the sink, Dean grabbed his dad's special toothpaste for sensitive teeth from inside the medicine cabinet, and squeezed it out onto his now clean brush. He made a disgusted face as he started brushing his teeth again, the taste of new toothpaste even worse than the mayo.

In his room, Dean grabbed his favorite pair of socks and slipped them on. He grabbed his sneakers and shoved his feet in them, not bothering to untie them. Getting up to get his hairbrush, he felt something squishy in his shoes. He sniffed the air and said, "Peanut butter."

Sighing, he took off his shoes, putting them in front of his nightstand, and tore his socks off, throwing them in his hamper.

"Little bastards," he muttered to himself as he put on his orange socks, which he hated but were the only other pair that was clean. "I should put itching powder in their underwear."

After reluctantly putting on his yellow neon sneakers, he took the peanut butter infested shoes into the bathroom, dropping them into the tub and running water over them. He went back to his room and got a post-it note and pen, writing "Someone put peanut butter in shoes- please wash" on it. He stuck it to the bathroom door and turned the tub faucet off.

He went back to his room, thinking about how to get back at his brother and cousin.

* * *

At school, Castiel was getting his books out of locker when Daphne approached him.

"Hey, Castiel," she said pleasantly.

"Good morning, Daphne," he replied absently.

"So about the dance on Friday, you want to go with me?"

The teenager sighed and closed his locker, turning to her. "Daphne," he said slowly, "I am a homosexual and I am going with my boyfriend."

A look of anger appeared on the girl's face. "He is a sinner, and he's taking you to hell with him."

"Neither of us are going to hell." He shook his head, clearly annoyed. "You should go to your locker."

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a very loud "Cas!" coming from down the hallway. They both turned and saw Dean, walking quickly down the hallway towards them, cradling one of his hands.

"You aren't gonna believe this," he huffed out, showing his boyfriend his right hand. Castiel gasped at the bruised fingers, touching them gingerly. Dean let out a low whimpering noise. "They put a mouse trap in my backpack." Neither of them noticed Daphne walking away, snickering.

"My poor, pink haired baby," Castiel said, and smiled when Dean scowled at him. "I think you need an icepack."

"Take me to the nurse's office?" he asked, and Castiel kissed him lightly on the lips in response.

* * *

Dean arrived at the ice skating rink at 5:56, jumping out of his car as soon as he parked. Fortunately, he wasn't on babysitting duty, so his brother and cousin weren't with him. He hadn't actually seen them all day; after his club he hung out with his best friends Charlie and Benny, and then he drove straight to the rink.

Inside, both hockey teams were warming up on their respective sides. Dean took a seat near Castiel's family, pinching Ash's cheek as he sat down.

"Hi, Dean," Castiel mother greeted him, smiling. Bobby grunted at him, earning him a glare from his wife.

"Cas," Dean called out, "Cas!"

"Oh God, not again," Bobby muttered.

Castiel, standing a few feet from the goal post, looked in Dean's direction, smiled and waved at him. Dean sighed happily as he waved back.

Something hit the teenager in the back of the head, and he turned around to see Meg, Alastair, and Daphne sitting together a few rows up. Alastair had container of popcorn with him, and Dean watched take out a piece and toss it at him.

"Piss off," he said to them, and Meg flipped him off and Alastair winked at him. Dean turned back around and muttered, "I didn't even know they were friends."

* * *

"Which one is Nick?" Alastair asked, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

"Twenty-three," Meg replied, watching Castiel hit the puck into his side's net. "Wow that was hot," she whispered.

Daphne looked at her in disgust. "What exactly is he gonna do to Cas?"

"Tell him he fucked the nerd last week," Meg responded. "Hey Al, gimme some popcorn," she demanded.

"Go fuck yourself, bitch."


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel Singer was not a naturally violent boy.

Sure, he would occasionally punch his little brother and cousins, and a few times when he was in middle school he ended up in fights with kids that relentlessly bullied Dean. Sometimes he would make threats at certain people who liked to harass his boyfriend, but he never had any reason to follow through with them.

And of course many times during hockey he would shove the other players out of his way, but he never got into a fistfight with them.

So it came as a surprise to everyone when he lunged at Nick Monroe and knocked him to the floor, repeatedly punching him in the face.

Castiel's attack on Nick occurred so fast that at first, Dean didn't understand what had happened. He didn't even realize it was Castiel until he heard Bobby mutter "I knew this would happen eventually".

All Dean saw was two players rolling around on the floor, hitting each other, and the referee trying to break them up. Castiel's team and some of the spectators were cheering him on, and the other team was encouraging Nick.

Dean watched as the referee and the other team's coach wrestled them way from each other. Castiel's coach grabbed him and whispered something to him, and in response, Castiel crossed his arms and skated away, tripping out of e rink. Dean watched him sit on the bench outside of the rink and pull off his skates, throwing them onto the floor.

"I'm gonna go ask what happened," Dean said, getting out of his seat and walking down the bleachers.

"Tell him he's grounded," Karen called after him.

When Dean walked up to Castiel, the senior's face was red and he had his hands fisted in his hair.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked him.

Castiel glared at him and stood up. "Nick said he fucked you," he growled.

"Well, he's a lying dick," Dean glanced at the security guard standing near them. "Uhm, do we have to talk about this here?"

Castiel fisted his hand in the younger boy's shirt and dragged him into the handicapped bathroom, locking the door behind them.

He took a deep breath. "Every time he skated by me, he opened his fucking mouth," Castiel said as calmly as he could. "He said last week, after your Dungeons game, he came to your house, and you had sex."

"He's lying," Dean proclaimed. "He was just trying to mess with you. I told you we almost fucked last year, that's probably why he thought you'd believe him."

The older boy stared at him. "Your living room is blue."

Dean nodded slowly. "Yes."

"It was yellow last year, but your parents had it painted. How did he know it was blue?"

"Maybe he saw a picture of it on tumblr or something." Dean's voice cracked and his eyes started watering. "How could could you think I could ever cheat on you?"

"Because that's what sluts like you do," Castiel replied angrily.

Dean stared at Castiel, trying not to blink to stop the tears from falling. He ran his fingers through his pink hair, exhaled, and said "Your mom said you're grounded."

"Dean," Castiel said, voice soft, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"I'm going home," Dean interrupted. He pushed Castiel out of his way and unlocked the door, pulling it closed behind him.

He spotted Meg, Alastair, and Daphne leaning against the wall next the bathroom.

"Hey sexy," Alastair said, grinning.

"Fuck off," Dean responded, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Aww the little fag is crying," Meg said, chuckling. "Did your little boyfriend hit you?" She sounded hopeful when she said this.

"Of course not," Dean hissed, glaring at her. "Go to hell, you stupid bitch."

Meg's nostrils flared and she took a few steps forwards, fists clenched, then looked around and stepped back.

"You're lucky all these people are here," she snarled.

"Bite me," he said. Then he walked out of the building, keeping his head down and arms crossed all the way to his car.

Dean let out a sigh when he heard a knock at his window. "Come in," he said, not looking up from his laptop. He was sitting on his bed, working on an english essay. He heard Castiel fall onto the floor, and he ignored the noise of pain the older boy made.

Castiel cleared his throat when he got up, dropped his backpack on the floor, then sat next to Dean on the bed.

"I brought you chocolate," he said, dropping a heart shaped box on Dean's lap.

"It's like 11:30, why are you here so late?" Dean refused to look at him, continuing to tap away on his computer.

"Dean, I'm sorry I called you a slut," Castiel pleaded. "I was just upset, I know Nick lied."

Dean stopped typing and closed the laptop, turning to look at his boyfriend. He was wearing a white T-shirt and green jeans. "Are you sure you're sorry?"

"Yes," Castiel responded, resting his chin on Dean's shoulder.

"Are you sure you believe me and not Nick?"

"Yes. Please forgive me, beautiful?"

Dean put his computer on his nightstand and picked up the box of chocolate. He took the top off and popped one of the candies into his mouth. "'Kay, I forgive you," Dean said as he chewed the chocolate.

Castiel smiled and kissed his ear.

The younger boy leaned back, resting his head on his pillows, Castiel joining him. The dark haired teenager draped an arm across Dean's stomach, curling his hand around his hip..

"Those little punks painted my basketball," Dean stated after eating another piece of chocolate. Castiel laughed in response. "Not funny," Dean said, slightly annoyed. "It's same color as my hair now. They also put shaving cream in the vanilla ice cream."

"Did you talk to either of them about it?"

"Sam's only been home for an hour," Dean mumbled. "Dad made him go to bed when them and my mom got home."

"Did you tell your parents what him and Jo have been doing?" Castiel started slowly running his fingers through Dean's short hair.

Dean sighed happily. "Didn't get a chance, they went to bed, too. They had been running errands all day and made Sam come with them."

Castiel hummed in response and kissed the other teenager's cheek a few times.

"I'll think of a way to get back at them," he stated, closing the box and pushing it onto the floor. "How much trouble did you get into?"

"9:00 curfew," Castiel said between kisses. "And no texting."

"You snuck out just to apologize," Dean declared happily, moving closer and wrapping his arms around the older boy. Maybe he does care about me, he thought.

"Yep," Castiel responded, kissing his temple. "Go to sleep, now."

"Not tired," Dean protested weakly, eyes closing.

The next morning, Castiel drove them both to school in Dean's car. Dean had insisted that Castiel be the one to drive them, since Dean was still sore from their morning shower sex and claimed he would be distracted if he drove.

When they got to the school's parking lot, Dean slammed the passenger door shut and stomped over the driver's side.

"This is why I hate people," he said angrily. "You could've crashed and killed us." He was looking at the hood, bits of egg yolk and pieces of shells falling down.

Castiel got both their backpacks from the backseat and shut the door. "It was probably just some drunk idiots," he said as walked over to Dean and handed him his bag. "We can't do anything about it."

"We could have died," Dean said, shaking his head. "And now my car is dirty. God, they must of hit her with at least ten eggs."

"Dean," Castiel said, grabbing his boyfriend by the shoulders, "go inside, and get ready your classes."

"But, she's d-"

"I will clean it up," the older teen interrupted. He kissed Dean on the lips. "Go."

Dean sighed and walked off, glancing back at his car every few feet.

Castiel opened the trunk and was leaning over to get the paper towels Dean kept there, when he felt someone pinch his ass. He let out a squeak and straightened up, rubbing the sore spot.

"Hey, gorgeous," Meg said from behind him.

Castiel ignored her and took the paper towels out, shutting the trunk and walking back to the hood of car. He heard Meg's boots hitting the ground behind him.

"So, what's going on sexy?" Meg said, moving closer to Castiel.

The teenager shoved her away and started wiping the egg bits off the car. "Go away."

"Aww, c'mon, don't be so..." she trailed off and Castiel saw her move to the front of car out of his peripheral vision. "That's egg yolk... This is Dean's car."

"Maybe there's a brain in there after all," Castiel responded, balling up a dirty towel and ripping off another one.

"Didn't you break up?" she asked, sounding a little worried.

Castiel shook his head. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his water bottle, squirting some water onto the hood.

"Well, uhm... I really you should." She wrapped her cold fingers around his wrist, stopping him from his cleaning. "That little fag doesn't appreciate you like I do."

Castiel dropped the paper towel and bottle onto the hood. He turned to her, head tilted slightly, and with his other hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it off of him. He dig his nails into her flesh as hard as he could.

"Wow, Cas that kinda hurts," she said, try and failing to sound nonchalant. He grabbed her other wrist and gave it the same treatment. "This is really starting to hurt."

"I hate just about everything you do," he said, voice even. "I hate when you harass me, I hate when you bully my boyfriend and others, I hate hearing the words you choose to say."

"I think you're breaking the skin."

"You repulse me, and if I ever see or hear you bullying my Dean, I will pull every strand of hair out your head. Understand?"

"Yes," Meg responded through gritted teeth.

He released her wrists and took a few steps back. "Get away from me."

"I'm bleeding," she stated, looking at her wrists.

He kicked her shin, hard. "Go away," he growled.

He watched her limp away, hearing her curse, and he realized she had egg yolk on her pants.

"That little bitch," he muttered.


End file.
